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ROARA
As I made my way to follow where I'd seen Loki leave the room I walked straight into Bruce.
"Roara." He grinned.
"Hey Bruce, I'm just following Loki."
He pointed in the direction I'd already been making for. "I saw him go that way."
I sighed with relief. "Thank you. I thought as much but it's nice for it to be confirmed."
"Hey, I saw you dancing on that table back there, you got some moves."
I threw my head back and laughed. "Oh, they're not mine. I borrowed from Alina as we were leaving the bar. I'm trying to get to grips with mimicking skills as well as abilities."
Banner shook his head. "How's it going for?"
"Well," I glanced at the exit, "I can really only do physical skills, nothing intellectual, so don't worry I'm not about to steal your doctorates from you. I'm really sorry, but I don't want to lose Loki, can we chat about this later?"
He stepped aside. "Sure." He smiled and put his hands into his back pockets as I walked past him. As I jumped up the steps to the exit I pulled my heels off my feet. They were really painful, and I was saying that after being shot. I caught sight of Loki again, but he wasn't going in the direction I'd expected him to. I thought he'd be going to the roof, but instead he took a left turn which led to Tony Stark's personal penthouse.
Quietly I walked after him, watching him walk into the room and pour himself a drink from one of Tony's private collections of whiskey.
"That," I leant on the door as I watched him, my voice making him start, "is a very naughty thing to do."
"Are you drunk?" He asked me, brow furrowed.
"A bit." I walked into the room, throwing my shoes onto the sofa. "Are you stealing from Tony Stark, the man himself?"
"Well, it's not stealing. He offered it to me. Want one?" He got out another glass and poured me a drink before I could respond.
I tilted my head. "Sure he did,"
"He did!" Loki insisted, passing me my drink. "About four years ago before Hulk smashed me into the floor."
I took a drink and placed my crystal glass back onto the counter. "Loki, I really don't think that counts."
"Oh, I beg to differ." He finished his drink and placed it next to mine, before walking closer to me. "Thor had a word with me."
I groaned. "And?"
"Well not much to say really. Would you like me to apologise?"
"It's not about whether I'd like you to, it's about whether you should or not." I frowned. "It's about whether it's the right thing to do."
"I've never been guided by what the right thing to do is." He reminded me.
I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a low moan in frustration. "Why can't you just... try to be a good person for once?"
"I did. And look where it got me." He spread his arms wide. "Landed me in an Asgardian prison."
"I don't think trying to take over Midgard-"
"I meant trying to give you powers, trying to give you ways to protect yourself when I wasn't there."
I opened my mouth to speak but shut it again, taking in his words. "Okay," I held up a finger, trying to gather my thoughts, "first of all I don't need you to protect me, I never have. Second of all, what the fuck?"
"I just wanted to protect the girl I loved but Odin decided that was unacceptable." He shook his head as he laughed dryly.
"Are you drunk?" I echoed his own question back to him.
He waved a hand vaguely. "Very, but that's not the point."
"No, you must be, because you left me. You left. You saw what you'd done and just-"
"I never left you Roara. Odin sent Thor and his soldiers as soon as I'd done it. They pulled me away from you and locked me up." He snarled, taking a step closer to me.
"Loki, you're scaring me." I whispered as I backed away. This was not the man I'd been dancing with just a few hours ago. He's drunk, I told myself, he's drunk and pissed off that you were upset by what he said earlier, he doesn't know what he's talking about.
He moved closer to me, forcing me back against the wall. "I'm scaring you? Maybe you should be scared of me."
"No." I said, voice quivering. "It's not true."
"Oh, and you know everything now do you Roara?" He shook his head. "You know all about me?"
"You told me I saw you, that I was the only person to see you." I swallowed and forced myself to take a step forward.
"I was lying." He spat. "Because I can't be what you want, what you need. You want someone sensitive and respectful and decent," he spat the word like venom, "go for Steve Rogers. I'm not that, I never pretended to be that."
"You left!" I shouted. "Thor told me-"
"Oh, my brother." Loki laughed. "My brother who took you to Asgard, who forced everyone to be silent about what happened?"
Just then Alina burst into the room. "I heard shouting, what the fuck is going on here?"
"Oh look, another midgardian committed to silence." Loki growled, walking towards her.
I looked at her, up and down, and even though her expression alone was enough I still forced myself to speak. "You knew?"
"Roara I-"
"DID YOU KNOW?" I screamed.
"Thor made me promise-"
"Who else knows?" I asked, pouring myself more whiskey and downing it in one.
Alina took a step into the room, making an effort to ignore Loki, her gold dress glinting in the light. "Roara, please." She begged.
"Who. Else. Knows." I snarled.
Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. Good. She should feel guilty. "St-steve." She stammered. "And Natasha."
I nodded. Then threw my smashed onto the floor, making Alina jump. "When?" I asked.
"Before you woke up. Roara I am so sorry, Thor told us to keep quiet, that he'd tell you when the time was right."
I laughed dryly. "When the time was right? You lied to me, let me believe that for months Ali. Months. And you," I turned to Loki. "How could you?"
"How could I?" He placed a hand on his chest. "I didn't leave. And now you know. Doesn't that make things better?"
"Better? Better? Loki it makes things worse!" I felt my arms burst into flames with my anger. "I had just come to terms, accepted, forgiven even, your leaving. And now you're telling me you lied to me? You still betrayed me Loki. You promised, you-" I had to stop myself. I was crying now. "UGH!" I yelled, kicking the broken shards of my glass across the floor. "LOKI!" I screamed, anger cracking through every letter of his name.
His face was pale, paler than normal. I walked over to him and slapped him. That seemed to sober him up. As my hand made contact with his face I pulled on his power. "You need to grow the fuck up, as a person, as a friend, as a lover. You need to grow Loki, and you need to work on yourself. Work on how to treat people." I growled.
I thought that would make things better. Mind reading always felt weird, but for some reason right now it didn't feel invasive. I was just angry. I thought she'd be happy that I hadn't left, that she would forgive what I said earlier. I thought-
"You were mistaken." I said coldly. "I'm not happy. You just exchanged one betrayal for another." I saw Thor skid into the room, surveying what was happening, the shards of glass on the floor, my flaming arms. I caught myself in one of the reflective surfaces. Underneath my raised tattoo I saw my war markings imprinted onto my skin, my eyes glowing orange. I turned to Thor. "Are you happy now Thor? Loki and Ali have told me everything. Let me guess how long Loki's punishment was in the cells of Asgard. Five years." I didn't need to read his mind to know I was right, but I did it anyway. "I knew because that's how long I was recovering in Asgard. My mother asked Odin to make sure I survived, not to take away the man who I loved."
Loki was very much sober now. "You... loved me?"
"Of course I fucking loved you, you idiot!" I could feel wind swirl around my feet, water trickle from my hair. "I loved you with every single fibre of my being, with my entire soul!" I was seething now. "And you LIED TO ME!" I screamed. The floor cracked around my feet. I turned to Thor again, seeing him recoil at the sight of me. "Four hundred years Thor, four hundred, and you kept this from me. For what? So I wouldn't see Loki again? So I could be lonely forever, and suffer in silence?" I thrust a hand forward, using air to throw him back against the wall. "Well I'm not going to be silent now. Not anymore." I turned to Loki. "I kissed Bucky. Late spring, 1942. And you know what Loki? It felt really fucking good to move on from you."
"You did what?" I could see his anger flare up again.
"That's right." I stalked towards him. "And he kissed me back."
"You want to talk about betrayal?" Loki cried. "Right there, that was betrayal."
"I am not yours Loki, I never was, and I never will be."
He yelled and threw his hands out, a blast of pure green energy flying towards me. I screamed and matched him with my own power, a shot of water, fire and air meeting him halfway. With the other hand and I threw him off his feet with a gust of wind, breaking the connection. "I am not some human Loki Laufeyson, I am the daughter of a God. You think that could defeat me?" I stood over him, his face pure rage and hate. "You're so pathetic Loki, pining after one girl for four hundred years. Now get out." I hissed. He got to his feet, and with one last look of detest he left, clenching his fists as he left, making the furniture around the room lift. Before they could crash together I held up a hand, feeling my feet levitating off the floor, a small hurricane at my feet. The furniture slowly lowered, as did I.
I looked to Thor. "You too, you asshole." Without a word Thor turned and went.
"Ro, I-"
"I don't want to hear it Alina." I felt my rage subside as I looked at her face. Just deep hurt filled me. "I thought you were my friend."
"I am your friend." She whispered.
"A friend wouldn't lie to me about something as important as that. Just go." She looked like she was about to say something else, but instead looked as though she might burst into tears and ran out.
I fell to the floor, heaving in and out breaths, trying to stop myself from completely breaking. I wanted to cry so badly, but I was not going to cry over a man. I picked myself up from the floor, taking wobbly steps towards the drinks counter. I poured myself a drink. Then another. Then I drank it straight from the decanter.
I stumbled out of Tony's ruined penthouse and made my way to the dance floor, the lights and colours making my eyes hurt. Everything was loud and hot and spinning.
As though in a trance I found myself in the middle of the writhing bodies. I felt hands on my waist from someone behind me. I glanced up. The blonde haired Agent from earlier, Simon Bridges. Well, I realised, I've already fucked up tonight. No point in stopping now.
I ground against him, letting my body take over the movements, allowing my brain to rest. I didn't want to think anymore. I turned to face him, pulling him to me. His lips met mine and I realised I didn't feel anything. No sparks, no fireworks, just pain. I kissed him harder, grasping to feel something, anything.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, tearing me away. "Ro, come on."
I batted whoever it was away, going back to Bridges.
"Roara. You're embarrassing yourself." The voice said, harsher now. I turned to see Steve. He took my hands and led me away from the crowd, into a small alcove. "What was that?" He hissed.
"Steve," I muttered, "ever the decent man. So sweet." I said bitterly. "So kind."
"What are you talking about?" He asked, looking utterly confused. I'd lost Loki's power, so I couldn't read his mind, but I didn't need to in order to speak mine.
I shook my head. "You knew too. You knew that Loki didn't leave me all those years ago and you kept silent. You and Alina both, you were my closest friends, and you kept it from me." I pushed him away, stumbling backwards.
"Roara-"
I had already turned around and walked away. I made my way out, to the small seating area set up. I thought it would be empty but it wasn't.
Bucky turned around to look at me, a beer in his hands, "How'd it go with Loki?"
I went to sit next to him."Oh, about as well as you might expect. Only it was worse. Apparently he didn't leave me all those years ago, Odin forced him away. And he never told me. Neither did Thor, Alina, or Nat. And I told him we kissed." I groaned and put my head in my hands. "He was so so pissed off."
Bucky put a gentle hand on my back to calm me. "It was eighty years ago."
"That's like a day to him. He's over a thousand years old." I grunted, pulling Bucky's drink out of his hand and taking a large gulp before putting it heavily on the table in front of us.
"We were very different people back then Roara." Bucky defended.
"I know." I sighed.
"So what's happening with you two." Bucky asked. "I'm assuming you're not on great terms with the others."
"I'm not, and honestly I think he betrayed me far more than I betrayed him. He lied to me. Constantly. Deceived me. Did he expect me to just mope about for him endlessly?"
Bucky sighed. "From what you told me in the cell, you kind of did."
"Yeah I kind of did. And then you came along with your confidence and your charm and I was like oh maybe I can't give myself permission to move on. But apparently not. Because that's not allowed." I shook my head.
Bucky took his hand off my back and leaned against the back of the sofa. "Well I'm not like that anymore, so he has nothing to worry about."
"You are a little bit." I shrugged. "Just without any confidence. And a lot less charming." I conceded.
"Do I have any good traits?"
I turned to look at him. "You're funny. You're kind. You know when not to push people's boundaries."
"I feel as though these things are very basic." He raised an eyebrow at me.
"After Loki the bar is set very low." I laid back to look at him from the side.
"You guys didn't even-" Bucky began.
"Shut up I know, but I sacrificed a lot for him. Least he could do is be grateful." I snorted.
"Maybe he's just used to other people saving his sorry ass. I don't think he's ever really put himself out for anyone but himself." Bucky shook his head in disgust.
"Maybe." I sighed. "But I really fucked up Buck. I really fucked things up, with everyone."
After a long pause he finally said. "You deserve better than him."
"Like you?" I asked, nearly hopefully.
"Not me." He finished his beer.
I looked him up and down. "How much have you had to drink tonight?"
"After seeing you dance with Loki?A lot. Too much." After a short silence he asked, "How drunk are you?"
"Well I can see two of some things and last time I checked demigods don't need glasses. So on a scale of one to ten, an eleven." I rubbed my temples, attempting to sober up a little.
He leaned towards me, looking me straight in the eye. "How much are you going to regret tomorrow?"
"Is that even a question? A fuck of a lot. So fucking much." I groaned.
"Want to make it more?"
"Good god yes." Bucky got up, and I followed him.
"By, do you want to make more things to regret, I did not think you meant stealing a bottle of champagne and drinking it on the roof of the Avengers tower." I said, as we made our way to the middle of the roof. "I thought you meant sex."
"Have you even had sex?" He asked me seriously.
"Have you?" I raised the champagne bottle to my lips.
"Okay, fair enough." Bucky grunted and sat down on the floor of the roof, patting the space next to him.
I sat down and looked him up and down. "I really fucked up tonight, embarrassed myself a lot, I'm only just sobering up and I'm going to be so mad at myself tomorrow."
"You want to talk about it?"
"Not really." It was a beautiful night. Fairy lights were strung up across the rooftop, and I could see the Manhattan skyline lit up across the horizon.
I looked back at Bucky and felt my stomach drop. It was as though I was seeing double. The Bucky I knew now, and the James from 1942.
I could still picture him perfectly, as he was then, fresh faced and young, dirt smeared across his cheeks from training. He was always making jokes, sarcastic one-liners, flirty comments. Now he was always looking grave, silent, serious. I knew he was making an effort to be the person he'd once been for me, but he'd forgotten who that was. Hydra had made sure of it. And I didn't want him to hurt himself more for me. I didn't want him to be a person he wasn't. I felt my eyes sting, and tears began to fall.
"Are you? Why are you crying?"
I wiped my eyes quickly and held his face in my hands again. I let my eyes wander across his eyes, his nose, his lips. "You're not the same boy I met in Italy, are you?"
"No." He let his gaze fall from mine.
"Hey," I murmured, "look at me." His eyes made contact with mine once more. "It's okay. For me that boy died in 1942, and I grieved him, and I moved on. You have to grieve him and move on too. Now I'm looking at the man he became, and he is strong, and he is kind, and he is understanding. You were so young. You weren't yet scarred by war or the guilt of years." I had seen it happen so many times. In France in 1918, boys coming up to fight at the front, and they'd start off with their humour and their optimism, and by the end they were grave and full of sorrow. He moved his thumb up to my cheek and wiped away another tear that had dropped. I let out a small laugh and managed a weak smile, my lips trembling. "I'm not the girl you met then either. We've both been through so fucking much."
"I know. I realised when I saw your face in that cell. I don't remember the anecdotes you tell me, but I laugh anyway and pretend. I want to remember though." I heard his voice catch slightly in his throat.
"I know you do. I know. Do you..." I didn't know if I wanted to know the answer to this, but I needed to ask the question anyway. "Do you actually remember me from then?"
"Yes." He placed his other hand on my cheek, wiping away more tears. "I do."
I looked at him, at his eyes, at the pain and the suffering they held. I took in all of it. All of the guilt from every kill he'd ever made, the scar from every wound, the trauma from all Hydra had done to him. I wanted him to know how happy we'd been, despite everything going on, despite not really being a proper couple. Stealing glances and moments when we were supposed to be working, pretending to bump into each other when we'd planned it all along. I wanted him to know how we'd laugh, every joke we'd shared, every memory we'd revealed to each other.
I took a deep breath. "Do you remember our kiss?"
He closed his eyes. "No. It's... blurry. I remember sitting on the log with you away from the camp and being dirty." He shook his head. "I didn't remember that we'd actually kissed, not until you told Gunn. And then I knew that we had. That's why I screamed at you. I didn't even know what they were going to beat me up for. I just wanted you to tell me, as much as they did."
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against his. I wanted to scream, to sob, because my first kiss, and until tonight my only ever kiss, wasn't remembered by the person I'd shared it with. The only person I'd ever been able to let myself really care for, possibly even fall for, apart from Loki. And that memory, like so many others, had been stolen from him.
"I'm sorry. I wish I could." He muttered, barely audible from the thickness that came with the guilt and regret in his voice.
"Don't be sorry. The memory of that kiss might be gone, but we can always make more." And before he had a chance to move away, I pulled his face close to mine, pressing my lips to his. I wasn't shocked, or stunned by what I'd just done, it felt right. He didn't register what I'd done for a second, his lips unmoving against my own.
And then he was kissing me back, nearly a century of longing in his every move, his hand snaking from my cheek to the back of my head. And I felt fireworks. They were exploding in every part of me. His fingers gently intertwining with my hair as his other hand moved to my lower back, pulling me closer to him. I tasted my tears, his tears, as our lips parted for breath and then crashed back into each other. I moved my arm to be around his neck as his hand on my back moved downwards, pulling me even closer so that we were completely pressed against each other.
I moved away to look at his face. "No more tears now James." I whispered, wiping under his eyes. I felt him shiver in my arms as I said his name. "Do you not like me calling you that?"
His pupils were dilated, his voice low. "No, say it again."
"James." With his name still on my lips he kissed me again, more passionately this time, more urgently, as though if he didn't kiss me now he might never be able to again. I didn't even feel alcohol in my system I was so drunk on him. He pushed me down onto the hard ground of the roof, his hand on the back of my head making sure I didn't hurt myself.
His mouth moved from lips to my neck and I wrapped my legs around his waist. "Again." He murmured as he moved to kiss my neck in a different spot.
I gasped with the sheer pleasure of it. "James."
"Hazel." He murmured back to me. I felt myself smile in the darkness, eyes opening to see the stars. I knew I shouldn't be able to see the stars in New York City, but somehow, there they were. Bright and hopeful in the night sky.
"Do you remember that?" I breathed.
He moved back to look at me. "I remember you. And to me, you'll always be Hazel from Italy."
"With that crate of potatoes that I couldn't carry." I laughed.
He kissed me again, a hand on my waist. "They were pretty heavy." He admitted.
"Sai farmi sorridere come nessun altro." I whispered.
"What does that mean?" His lips were so close to my ear that I almost moaned right then and there.
I was finding it hard to hold it together enough to answer him. "It means you make me smile like no other man does."
"Is that true?"
"Well you don't make me want to punch you in the face so I'd say so." I giggled.
In the soft lighting of the rooftop I could see him smile. "I like it when you speak Italian."
"Mi sei piaciuto dal primo istante in cui ti ho visto." I told him, before pulling his face to mine once more and kissing him deeply, drinking him in, letting my wanting take me over. I liked you from the first time I laid my eyes on you, I translated to myself. I'd learnt Italian when I'd gone to Florence in the late 1700s. I'd been completely floored by the beauty of the place, I'd walked around the churches, my jaw dropping at every painting and every domed roof.
Taking his hand in mine, I slid it under the hem of my dress, trying not to shudder at the coldness of the metal. He gripped my bare waist making me moan quietly into his mouth, just making him kiss me harder. This wasn't how I'd thought the night would end, but I was glad it was.
As I thought that, the image of Loki's face slid into my mind. "Is there really anyone but me darling?" The sound of his voice ringing in my head just pushed me closer to Bucky, my hands pulling off his leather jacket, fingers gliding under his T-shirt.
"There is." I told him in my head. "I can't let myself fall for you, not again, not until you've grown as a person."
"If it's like that." And his face left my mind, leaving me with alone James Buchanan Barnes, on the rooftop of a New York skyscraper, hair messy, dress halfway up my stomach, pulling his shirt off his arms.
I pulled my dress up my body, throwing it aside, pulling him against me once more. The feeling of his bare skin against mine made my body feel something it hadn't felt in quite literally centuries.
"You are so..." Bucky's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I looked down at myself, at the scars on my stomach and my side, at the raised patterns on my skin that went down the whole of my left side. I thought of my face, of my single white eye, of my spoiled make up. I turned my face to the side in embarrassment and shame. "Hideous." I muttered, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed, my hands itching to leave his body and cover up my own. I'd never been shy about my body before. I'd seen so many people naked in my long lifetime that people and bodies became just that. People and bodies.
With one finger he turned me back to face him. "Breathtaking." He corrected.
I felt my lips turn up very slightly at the corners. "I don't need to be naked to do that. I control air now, remember?" The smile didn't last long. My body, which had been the same for so many years, was finally changing, scarring, marking. And I didn't like it.
"I know." He whispered. He moved his lips down, placing light butterfly kisses on each of my scars. The stab wound just above my hip, my gunshot mark just above my belly button, my coloured markings along my collarbone, finishing finally on left eyelid, "It just makes you all the more stunning."
"You are," I moved my mouth so I was whispering into his ear, "the best thing that has happened to me in the last century."